The Literacy Initiative
by Hrimige
Summary: Tony's latest brilliant idea for PR and teambuilding: have the Avengers read from their favorite stories on camera to encourage reluctant readers. He just has to convince the others.


"I've got it!" Tony yells, stomping into the communal kitchen. "We're going to make a literacy initiative!"

As opening salvos go, this is one of Tony's least odd ideas. The whole team knows they need good PR in the wake of all their various battles. They do perk up at the prospect of a good debate, Bruce sitting up in his armchair, Thor slouching even more as if to underscore his desire to be comfortable.

"You just like saying 'initiative,' " Clint offers from his perch on a tall stool. He's got a running bet that he can dislodge the worst ideas from Tony's head within mere seconds of hearing about them. The fact that Tony's pacing doesn't bode well for them.

"I do like saying 'initiative,' " Tony says, giving Clint that patented Tony Stark ironic eyebrow. "However! The state of the world is terrible. Not enough girls in STEM programs! Falling literacy rates! Under-representation of people of color in media! And within this very tower, I have state-of-the-art technology that would let us, I don't know, stream reading from our favorite stories to encourage kids-people of all ages-to get on the bandwagon."

"It wouldn't have to be in English, then," Natasha says, only half a question.

Steve beams at her. "Pushkin? Dostoyevsky?"

Tony holds up his hands. "You wouldn't have to read the entirety of _Crime and Punishment_ on YouTube."

Clint has to give up on his bet this round. Examining his fingernails closely fails to hide the slight tremor in his voice. "And if we're not very good at reading things in front of cameras?" This draws Natasha's eyes to him but she says nothing.

"Practice," Tony retorts. Resorting to being abrasive, nothing new, though he finally chooses to throw himself up to the island's countertop and balance precariously on the corner furthest from Clint.

"Stories of my family's...exploits...aside, I fear I am unfamiliar with much of the corpus of Midgardian literature," Thor breaks in. "Reminding your people of our shared history at this juncture could be a grave mistake."

Tony's losing them. He can smell it. This idea is too good to drop though.

"Beowulf," Natasha says suddenly.

"Bay-oh-wolf?" Thor repeats. These 'son of Coul' moments he has usually send Tony off in riffs and neverending wisecracks. The lost in translation phrases sometimes yield surprising treasure though. "Bay-oh-wolf...no, Bao-wolf? And Grendel?" The way he strings the 'eo' syllable together sounds nothing like how most Americans pronounce it; the smooth diphthong has the feel of long familiarity, affection.

"I wouldn't be surprised if you'd been the one to compose it," Tony snarks. It's half-hearted.

"Not I," Thor says, shaking his shaggy head. "There were epic bards of great skill with words. Your modern tongue has some of its roots yet but the loss of kennings-" He stretches out a hand as if to grasp something precious before it is lost to him. "I misdoubt your modern bards have similar skills."

"How's your Old English reading voice?" Bruce asks with gentle affection.

Thor sits up, drawing himself up proudly. Maybe he's no bard but he's determined to do these mutual histories justice. He sights on the coffee table, considering it, before starting to slap it in a regular tempo. Tony starts visibly, then clenches and unclenches his fists a few times. Thor starts up in a loud voice, in perfect rhythm with his slapping: "_Hwaet! We gardena in geardagum_-"

" _'Geardagum'?_ _Chert voz'mi!_ I was taught it as 'year-dayyum'-"

"Dayyum," Clint chortles. "Dayyum, girl!" Natasha delivers a withering look that should freeze his blood, then taps pointedly at her necklace charm.

Tony's pulsing forehead gives thanks that Thor has stopped beating on the coffee table for now. Bruce is drawing in a slow t'ai chi-or-something breath because the temperature in the room just dropped. _Kshht! The hammer is about to drop! I repeat, the hammer is about to drop!_ yells one of those sarcastic mind-voices of his before he can clamp down on it.

Thor is surprisingly gentle for having had his epic court skald moment ruined. His rumble is polite. "Obviously I cannot do it justice here, but as a young lad I was fortunate enough to hear the story recited by the very bards who had met the good warrior Beowulf. It would be a pleasure to bridge the cultural divide and teach young Midgardian warriors about their forefathers' adventures."

"He could do it at a hospital, it'd be beautiful," Clint quips.

"What, so a bunch of kids sitting there staring at the crazy Norse god babbling incomprehensibly and slapping a podium until it breaks? That's beautiful? You are so broken," Tony retorts. He pinches the bridge of his nose.

"I'd love to see his take on Seamus Heaney's translation," Natasha puts in, grinning. "Obviously it's not my thing the way Latin is-" she winks at Tony; he hopes he's the only one to remember her stint as his assistant from legal "-but I'm sure you'd have some interesting things to say about how he translates the kennings."

Thor looks interested in the kind of linguistics debate that Tony would find utterly useless; c'mon the languages are dead, let them rest in peace and he can go back down to his lab and blow things up for actual useful science. But they haven't outright rejected his idea or the vague thoughts he has for implementation, so this is a victory.

"...modern English may not have kennings or the same style of poetry, but we've still got regular compound words like 'headboard' and there are fascinating writings about whether being the head of the word means one thing, while being at the end..." Natasha has Thor's ear-she's dragging over a chair to talk languages with him. She pulls out her S-phone, jabbing at it while jabbering in jargon Tony can't be bothered to decipher, probably about to look up the full text of Beowulf so they can keep on doing their language nerd thing.

"That's settled then," Tony says to the air. The rest of the team is watching them in horrified fascination, likely as unable as he is to figure out the details of what they're talking about. This strikes Tony as a good time to brew some coffee and retreat. They've gotten the idea, the execution will be no problem.


End file.
